


T.A.H.I.T.I. Isn't the Only Magical Place

by PeeDeeTee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeeDeeTee/pseuds/PeeDeeTee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vacation Prompt care of the first ever Coulson Cakewalk.  :D</p>
<p>I learned that I suck at prompts.  I have about 5 completely different and scrapped never-to-be-finished little stories, because I kept veering away from the prompts!</p>
<p>I also learned that I am awful at time zone differences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	T.A.H.I.T.I. Isn't the Only Magical Place

When he knocks on her hotel room door, it's discreet and undemanding. 

She opens it and he smiles at her, almost shyly, before he reaches for her and brings her into his arms for a tight and engulfing hug, tucking the top of her head under his chin and circling his arms around her torso completely like winding pythons.  Seeing her in a bikini top and sarong makes his mouth instantly water, and he's got to check himself because suddenly, it feels like he's 17 years old again and his cock has a mind of his own.

This is her favorite place in the world to be; in his arms, surrounded by his scent.  The scent found in the little treasure trove of pheromones mixed with his aftershave in the crook of his neck.  This is her safe place, her fortress, her little piece of heaven.  He kisses the top of her head, and gives her another tight hug before letting his arms unwind and fall halfway down to his side so that he can run his palms over her arms, up her shoulders, and then her neck to cup her face so he can tilt her head up for his kiss.

"How are you?" he asks, voice low, gaze intense.

 

"It didn't feel like I was on vacation," she says, smiling, before she covers the gap between them,  and opens her mouth under his, inhaling deeply.  "It does now."  Her own arms now bringing him into her embrace as he sucks gently on her lower lip before he slips his tongue inside and she moans into his mouth.  She presses her torso against him, hips thrusting against his with some urgency.

They are half in, half out of her room.  He's driving her crazy with his self-restraint.  He seems to remember they are in view of anyone who steps out of the elevator, she can only focus on the fact that his belt buckle is an annoying hindrance.

Gently, his hands settle over her hips as he pulls away and gives her a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" he asks.  It gives her _some_ satisfaction that his cheeks are flushed pink and his khakis are tented in the front.  Yes, he's wearing khakis and an indigo button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons are undone.  And most shocking of all, there is no necktie in sight.  His wardrobe is deliberate and calculated, and she knows it's for her benefit.

He does little things like that.  Indulges her in little things she mentions so she feels special but not spoiled.  It was when she started noticing he was doing them that she realized her feelings for him may not be as one-sided as she first thought. 

He'd offered to pay for the hotel room.  But when she explained how important it was to her, that _she_ pay for it with money that she had earned and worked her ass for, he had relented with a sweet smile and told her he understood and said he would bring something nice just so he'd have some sort of contribution to their weekend away. 

If he had paid, if it had been _his_ choice, of course they would have ended up at some posh 4 or 5 star hotel suite and she would have felt like a princess.  But this was her deal and she realized so very proudly that she rather preferred feeling like a productive member of society instead of some idealized fantasy that was, at best, only for girls 12 and below.

They walk into the room, her fingers interlacing with his, leading the way inside.  He glances around and squeezes her hand and gently tugs her back into his embrace. 

"Do you like it?" she asks nervously.  "I know it's not fancy, but -"

He cuts her off with a kiss.  "It's perfect."

She beams at him.  _Beams_.  It makes him feel like a billion bucks.  She tugs on his hand again and leads him to the balcony.  Dusk has fallen, and there are a few stars that have ventured into the sky.  The ocean is softly lapping against the shore, and people mill about below, oblivious to them, exactly how they like it. 

He steps behind her, pressing his chest to her back, and she ever so naturally leans into him, running her hands up his arms as they settle over her shoulders.  He places his chin over the top of her head, just as she slips her hands under his, clasping them together at her sternum

_When are we going into the bedroom_ , she wonders again.  She hopes he hasn't changed his mind.  They had kissed (and quite a bit more), quite passionately, at The Playground about a week before, finally admitting their feelings for each other.  And just in time, she had been served notice that she was due for a vacation to "physically and psychologically rehabilitate" herself from the trauma of the previous months.

She had told him she didn't need it; that her rehabilitation right where she was was more than suffice, silently adding _with you_.  But he had insisted, saying she deserved it, and more importantly, needed it.  And he knew what to say to allay any remaining hesitation.  "Taking a vacation won't make you any less of an agent."

And to seal the deal:  "I think I can join you for a couple of days."

He's actually very eager to make love to her.  But hesitant to be aggressive in showing it.  He doesn't want her to think it's all he wants from these two days with her, because it isn't.  It had to be much, much more than just fucking to him.  It had to be deepening that connection they were already cultivating, even before the kiss at The Playground.

Both of them had a unique bond that had started forging itself almost from the first day they met.  An immediate connection that he found both intriguing and worrisome.  They built trust in one another quickly and without drama, a silent language without any effort, and a synchronicity with alarming precision.  Then, the shared biology of GH325 had catapulted all of it to an indefinable intensity, and that's why _that kiss_ happened. 

_The kiss and more._

On the balcony, he cannot muster any more self-restraint.  Her scent, her warmth and her softness are making him cloudy.  He places his lips against the shell of her ear and whispers, "I want to be inside you."

She tilts her head, looking up and smiles at him.  "Finally," she says.  "I thought you'd chickened out."  He chuckles at the impossibility of the concept, and allows her to tug him into the bedroom by hand.

Inside, he sits on the edge of the bed and draws her to stand between his legs.  She places her hands on his shoulders as he buries his nose in her navel, inhaling deeply, before licking the skin there and giving it tender bites.  She moans, her fingers lacing themselves through the hair at the back of his head as her abdominal muscles flex under his attention.

He loves how firm and powerful she's become over the last few months.  Toned and sinewy muscles everywhere.  But it's not the aesthetic he appreciates; it's knowing how she can take care of herself and protect and defend herself that turns him on.  He's always been attracted to strong women, and having had the privilege to see her transform into one and be his lover was amazing and indescribably arousing. 

Gently, she pushes him away and leans forward, planting her mouth over his as she guides him to lie down.  She's in the mood to be aggressive and she lets him know by thrusting her tongue into his mouth and biting his lower lip. 

He's happy to oblige.  He wants their first time to be perfect for _her_.  He also knows she needs some semblance of control in her life after the maelstrom of the last several months and he wants her to know that.

She's lying completely over him now, thigh rubbing against his hardness, between his legs.  Her hands begin to unbutton his shirt, her mouth never leaving his.  When she parts his shirt, her fingers slow down, knowing she'll be his exposing his scar any moment now.

"It's okay," he whispers against her lips. 

The first time she saw it, he had flinched and it had taken him a few seconds to get used to the idea she didn't find it repulsive.  Because it was to him.  To her though, it symbolized the beginning of when their fates became destined to intertwine.  It amazed him she saw it that way.  But he shouldn't have been surprised anymore - that's who she was.  Capable of seeing things no one else could.  And he had told her that right then and there, and she had kissed the jagged lines and edges.  Traced it with her fingers as she made love to his mouth that first time and told him how she wanted him to stop thinking of it as grotesque; and to think of it instead as what brought them together.

Lying on his back now as she opens his shirt completely and exposing him to her gaze for the first time, he loves the fucking thing because of her.  And loves it even more when she licks a path down his throat to his pecs and takes a little nip on his nipple.

She raises up a little bit and stares at his naked torso.  "I can't believe you hid this from me for more than a year," she pouts.

"Hid... what?" he asks.

She runs her hand up and down his chest and abdomen, fingers sifting through the hair.  "This.  Do you deliberately tell your tailor to camouflage this goodness?"  He has pecs.  And a respectable six pack.  And the most beautiful pattern of hair that tapers down past the waistband of his pants. 

"I never really thought about it," he answers.  He wants to get back to the kissing.  She tastes so good that not having her mouth over his is physically painful.  "More kissing, please."

She grins and obliges, hand coasting over his heated flesh one more time before fumbling with his belt and unbuttoning his pants.  When she takes a hold of his cock, he thrusts against her hand and gasps into her mouth. 

"Fuck.  Skye," he murmurs.  "Don't."

She squeezes him, milking him, her thumb  wiping off the little drop of pre-cum on the tip.  She brings it up to her mouth and licks it, showing him. 

He hauls her against him, viciously aroused at her display and growls, "I wanted to go slow, but you're making that impossible."  He flips her underneath him, and their lovemaking goes into overdrive.  His hands slip her bikini top off, quickly followed by her sarong then her bottom.  She's completely naked now, lying in the middle of the bed, and he raises up on his knees to look at her, drinking all of her in. 

"You're perfect," he gasps.  His chest is heaving and he's having a hard time not ravishing her on the spot.  He braces himself over her, one hand caressing her breasts, bringing her nipples to even more hardness and it's her turn to gasp now.  He sees her legs squeezing together, not because she's shy, but because she's searching for release.  His hand moves downward and slips between them, fingers moving through her slit. 

"You're soaked," he says appreciatively.  "I'm going to love going down on you."  His hands cup her knees and she automatically opens them to him.  While his fingers tease her even more, he fastens his lips to her nipple, sucking it inside his mouth.

"Coulson!" she gasps, drawing his head closer, eyes closing, drowning in sensation.  "Inside me.  Now.  Please."

He looks disappointed for a split second, but they've got all night.  He understands her urgency, and he's here for her more than him.  He will feast on her later and make love to her over and over again in every way imaginable. 

"Protection?" he asks.

She shakes her head.  "I know we're both good."

She reaches down and grabs his cock, and opens her legs more to accommodate him.  "Anyone ever tell you you're hung?" she asks teasingly.  She's never made love like this before.  It rushed, but not urgent.  It's  intimate but not deathly serious.  It's their first time, but it doesn't feel like it. 

"I've heard that, yeah."  He says it cheekily before slipping into her.  They both gasp as he begins to thrust into her, and the mood suddenly shifts.  It's suddenly intense now, and both of them are stunned at how he feels inside her.

Coulson has had his fair share of lovers.  But it's never felt like _this_.  Nowhere near close, even with the one he was in love with.  Far back in his mind, he wonders if it's that link again between them working.  The one that GH325 brought to new heights, but he can't think straight. 

All he can think of now is Skye.  Skye's sex squeezing him, perfect in every single way to him as though made for him; and how he knows without a single world what to do, how to move, how to make it perfect for _her_.

Because she's writhing underneath him, chanting his name and she comes , harder than she ever has in her life.  Her nails scratch his back, almost drawing blood.  But he's far from done.  He reaches between them and slows his pace down as he watches her intently come down from her orgasm.  Softly, he rubs at her clit, feather-light, allowing her to recover while at the same time keep her aroused.  He buries his face in her neck, sipping at the little beads of sweat there, softly telling her how fucking beautiful she is when she comes.

Slowly she opens her eyes.  Their gazes lock.  She thrusts against him, feeling every inch of him, feeling overwhelmed at the sensation of Coulson inside her, doing things to her no other lover had ever done.   
  
This wasn't just sex or love or sex with love.  _It was something else._

It wasn't normal.    But it was beautiful, and it was magical.  
  
"You're mine," she says.  The words have a far deeper meaning.  He understands.

He lays on top of her, pressing his full length against her.  "You know what I want," she says.

He thrusts harder and she's coming again.  This time he joins her, crying her name out, spilling his seed into her and in that second realizes, things will never be the same again and something.... _something has just happened._

 

 


End file.
